The Holocaust

Remember the Holocaust of Maytchet

by Dr. M. Dvorzecky

Translated by Amir Shomroni

Remember the Shoah of Israel; remember the destruction and the uprising. Thou shall have them for token and for lesson for years of many generations:

And joined shall bethis memory unto thee alway - when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up:

And thou shall betroth unto thee for ever the memory of the brethren who do not exist any more:

And shall be the memory in your flesh, in your blood and in your bones:

Gnash thy teeth and remember; when thou eatest thy bread  remember; When thou drinkest thy water  remember; When thou shall hear a song  remember; When the sun rises  remember; When the night comes  remember; And in the day of feast and solemnity - well remember:

And a house that thou shall build, thou shall leave a breach, that the destruction of the house of Israel shall be alway before thee.

And a field that thou shall plough, thou shall raise a heap of stones - a monument for the brethren who were not brought to an Israel-grave.

And when to the Huppah thou induct your children, thou shall prefer above thy chief joy the memory of the children whom to Huppah shall never be inducted:

And shall be one flesh: The living and the dead, the slain and the remnant, those who are gone and they are not - and the remnants that are escaped;

Hear O, man of Israel, the voice that crieth unto thee out of the depths: Keep not thou silence, keep not silence.

Remember the Shoah of Maytchet-annotated

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The Soft Whisper of the Haboinik The Hill of Blood

(For the Memorial Day of the Maytchet Community)

by Ben-Zion H. Ayalon

Translated by Esther Mann Snyder
A hushed whisper passes from one treetop to the next and the only answer is the sound of a low wail that gets stronger by the hour, until a great sound of courage and fear fills the whole grove and a stormy wind come up.

In speechless silence, as mourners and the chastened, the trees of the Haboinik that are on the Hill of Blood stand all year long. Since the last groan of a tortured infant from the grave reaching to the sky became silent, there hasn't been another gust of wind to rustle their branches and cause the treetops to whisper. A bird hasn't chirped while flying and a bee hasn't hummed on her honey. When death spread its black wings on those in the grave pit, nothing moved until its desire will be returned to the grove, until the innocent blood is atoned for, the blood that screams from the earth of the Haboinik.

But what is one day from two? What is the noise and tumult that passes today in the grove that is different from the past? Have the trees breached their vow and desecrated the oath of silence? Or perhaps the death cries of the murdered lying in the forest erupted in a storm to the heavens, came and didn't move from there until they received a promise of revenge for their blood spilled by animal-men, consolation and repair for the victims who died in the name of G-d (Kiddush Hashem) and the Jewish people.

Indeed, many acts of violence were committed in the pleasant shadow of the trees by cruel, inhumane murderers. Divine commandments and holy human obligations were trampled with a rough foot and desecrations were performed before the eyes of the whole world and no one helped and the day of revenge hasn't arrived although the time has passed. 
Today is Tuesday, 3 Menahem Av, the memorial day for the dead of the community, when the survivors of Maytchet convene to commune with the memory of their holy dearly departed. On this day, when the remainders of the families assemble in the land of Israel for a memorial assembly, those lying in the grave pit will awaken from their long sleep of death and even the trees which accompany them and eulogize them will stop the deathly silence of the forest in order to participate in their memorial. It has become a rule.

Every year, at the set time, there is activity in the forest. From the early morning the holy souls rise from their grave, each soul with its hand on its wound and or its bruise, sitting on the edge of the pit waiting for evening when they will be remembered well, for raising of its soul and for correction (tikun). And when each one's name is mentioned, it immediately rises on high and with one swoop

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reaches the hall of assembly, where it will listen with much satisfaction to the memorial. Every word of praise for its activities in the valley of tears, when still alive, will bring cure to the wound, and each expression of sorrow and every tear will come as relief and comfort to its pain. One by one, group by group, when their names are mentioned, the souls will rise up above the grave pit and fly to the memorial hall  they see but are not seen, floating above and filling the space. When the lights are dimmed and the sound of the Kadish (memorial prayer) said by the people for the widower or for the anonymous child, will be heard in the hall, the boundaries will be blurred. The moans and tears of the living will be mixed with the return of the organs of the holy souls and joined together for a full communing, for the rising of the soul and its correction.

With a shout of endless joy the holy souls return in flight from the memorial to the forest Haboinik, having risen and been corrected, ready to return to the pit where they will rest peacefully in their grave. However, no living soul can achieve the intensity of the pain that is not of this world of those souls that remained sitting on the edge of their pit and their names forgotten by the hearts of the living. Embarrassed and anguished they return after midnight with a quiet wailing to their graves with hope for the next year. And, the trees of the forest, witnesses and guardians of their welfare during the days of the year, take part in the happiness of the corrected ones and express their joy with a quiet whisper of their treetops; however they also moan a deep moan from the depths of their trunks for the sorrow of the forgotten ones.

And a secret whisper passes from one treetop to another and receives in response a thin wail all through the night. A humble sound of courage and fear that seized the whole forest and caused a stormy wind, getting weaker and slighter until it stops. The next day the deathly silence returns to the forest Haboinik until the next year and until the great day will come of revenge and repayment.

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